The Waters of Oblivion
by Ckyblaze
Summary: About Talbot... how he escapes the lost city, sees an opportunity to fulfill the mission, and the long journey back home  which is of course lined by evil rivalling organizations, UN workers and poisoned water . In progress!


I. UBAR

Something ripped at his flesh the very second he was about to slam the old man off the edge. Realizing it had been a bullet, Talbot staggered. _Shot?_ _Again?_ His dry mouth opened as the shock and pain overwhelmed him. Dropping the rock in his hands, Talbot saw the blurry silhouette of Sullivan as he crawled away. The once great city of Ubar gave up a last, great tremble. The violent shake brought his tired body to the edge of the ruined floor, and the pain from the second wound made him loose his footing. Falling, he saw Drake climbing his way up to relieve the old man from his near death encounter. Feeling weightless, Talbot saw Drake's feet disappear up over the edge. It was the last thing he saw before his body crashed right down into the shifting mass of sand.

The sand dragged and pulled at his body, dragging him further and further down. He had thought many times about how it would be to die, in his line of work it was almost optional, but he had never imagined himself being choked to death by sand. It filled his mouth, which he tried to keep closed, his ears... his nose.. everything. The eyes were the worst, but he could not muster a hand in their defence. Something heavy rumbled above him as he felt himself being dragged around in the abysmal darkness, perhaps it was the parts of the city, he thought, surfing on the sand above him.

Suddenly, his right foot dipped into something that felt like a hole. His whole body ached as he was forced into a stop. The sand continued to push at him from all directions, creating an almost unbearable torque. His mouth opened unwillingly to release a last gasp. Just as his last air escaped him, his leg followed his foot into the hole and soon his entire body was dragged down with the flowing sand. Falling, Talbot drew an instinctive breath. Astonished, he had the time to realise that air seemed to get to his lungs, before he once again fell on the harsh, grinding sand. This time though, it did not drag him down, instead he rolled down something that seemed to be a dune, burning his naked hands and forearms by the friction of the sand against his skin. Above, something rumbled and shook. That was the last thing Talbot heard before his consciousness escaped him.

He woke up sweating, not from heat, as it was rather cool down _wherever the hell he was_, but from the pain in his shoulder and abdomen. Making things worse, he had fallen on his left shoulder. Now it throbbed under the weight of his body. His right arm lay raised, protecting his head. Cautiously he removed it, feeling how cold sand trickled down his collar. It was a most uncomfortable feeling. As he tried to look around, he could barely open his eyes. It felt like they were made of sand. When he finally opened one, the only thing that greeted him was complete darkness. "What...!" He coughed. Was he blind? Where the hell was he? Pulling his feet out of the sand that had buried them, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. His right side protested to the movement, but his shoulder was worse, stiff as a stone, it ached horribly. Wincing, he put his left arm inside his vest in a Napoleonesque fashion.

Again he tried to look, but it was to no avail, either the room was pitch dark, or he could no longer see. One thing Talbot was certain of, he could not sit around here... waiting to die from thirst. It was not part of his nature. Unless this was hell, there had to be a way out! With trepidation he got up on his feet. Putting one feet before the other, he slowly walked in a straight line until his shoes ran into stone. Feeling around with his right hand, he found the cold of a wall in front of him. "A room then..." He muttered. Carefully he walked around the room, searching with his hand for some sort of door or lever. The empty space he looked for appeared suddenly, making him fall into a small passageway.

Coughing, he felt had landed on a staircase. The dry air stung in his throat and lungs. Soon, he realized, he would get a nosebleed from the dry air. _And then..._ Grunting, he dismissed such thoughts from his mind. He crawled up, beginning to make it up the stairs, feeling his way forward. His hand found a rock, and then another one, and another one. The way was blocked. Giving the rock in front of him a kick, Talbot sunk down slightly against the barricade_. If only Katherine was here..._ It took him all his powers to suppress a sob. He began to feel around.

It did not take long to find a hole in the barricade of stone. Talbot scolded himself mentally for being so afraid... for thinking there was no way out. Bracing himself, he climbed up into the hole and turned around on his back, pushing himself through with his good arm and feet. It was a tight squeeze, but with a few determined pushes with his heels he managed to crawl through the tight space. At the very tightest spot he had to let all the air out of his lungs to get through. A final push sent him flying backwards out on the other side of the rocky barricade and down on a dusty floor. "God!" He growled out in the dark. "I'll be a damn cripple before I make it out of here!" His words echoed of the silent walls. "_Out of here... of here... here_..."

As if taunting him, the whole structure began to shiver. Without light the trembles were invisible, but Talbot felt them trough his hands and knees as he got up. Sand began to seep down from above. He could hear the grains falling on the stone floor. Standing up straight, Talbot exhaled. _Was the damn building collapsing on him?_ He searched his pockets for a lighter, but as he did not smoke, he never carried one. Once again the ground trembled. Hearing something above shift, he backed up against the wall. A great _crack!_ followed, as something above dislodged itself and fell down on the floor. Covering his eyes, Talbot turned away from the dustcloud spawned by the piece of roof. Coughing, he waited out for the dust to settle before he once again dared to open his eyes. The light that hit them was stronger than the full headlight of a car.

Gasping at the revelation, Talbot felt his eyes water from the sudden light. Suddenly the whole room gained shape and texture, revealing fading bronze, turquoise and gold colours. Etchings and carvings appeared on the now bright walls, as if desperately wishing to be seen one final time before being devoured by the sand forever. _Such a pity!_ Talbot thought, feeling poignantly bitter over the loss of such treasures... Couldn't Drake just have left things alone? He sighed to himself. Another violent tremble brought him back to his more current problem. A way out. As he looked around, a dried up fountain caught Talbot's squinting eyes, it was decorated with cracked white and green mosaics. Following its intricate carvings upwards to a brass lantern close to the hole in the roof, he saw an opportunity to escape from this cursed city. As the room trembled, a large crack began appearing on one of the walls. Behind himself, Talbot could hear the previous room collapsing under the strain of the sand. Had he been there just a while longer... He looked up at the brass lantern. Could he do it with one working arm? What choice did he have? Frowning, he released his wounded arm from the vest, setting his sights on the highest ledge of the fountain. Amid curses, he began climbing.

Upon reaching the top of the fountain he hesitated, looking back at the brass lantern. His body objected to the thought of jumping to it. It was already shaking from pain and exhaustion, and the sweat running down from his forehead into his irritated eyes made it difficult to judge the distance. A collapsing pillar made all the difference. Talbot just narrowly managed to push himself away from the fountain before the pillar crashed down on it. Mosaics splintered away in every direction as it fell, taking a large part of the wall with it. Grabbing hold of the lantern, Talbot clung to it for all that he was good for, there was no getting back up if he fell. Tightening the grip with his thighs, he let go with his right hand and took a higher grip on the chain. He pulled himself up and repeated the procedure. A few trembling, excruciating minutes later he got up to the ceiling, bracing for a last stretch to the opening in the roof. Holding himself with his right hand, he began reaching for the ledge with his left. Finding the distance inadequate, he made the lantern swing. At the highest point he jumped, getting a grip of the edge. The strain on his wounded muscles made him nauseous. His left shoulder boiled as he heaved himself up, feeling the cold air of the underground being replaced by the oppressive heat of the desert. Gasping he pulled himself up and got a leg up over the edge. Soon he was out in the hot sting of the sun. Barely managing to keep himself from falling down again, Talbot crawled on his three working limbs, his only goal to get away from the horrid dark hole from which he had emerged. He made it up on the first dune, but did not manage to lift his head to look around. Collapsing on the fringe of the dune, he felt utterly finished. Soon, the blissful veil of unconsciousness lowered itself over his fatigued spirit.


End file.
